I Trust You (With the Pain)
by Red Tigress
Summary: Tony stumbles into a surprise in his living room. (Short birthday ficlet for a friend).


Tony walked into the common area, only to see the back of a half-naked woman on the couch.

Now, in a past life, this wouldn't have bothered him at all. But he was going steady with Pepper now, and while he could appreciate the human form in many circumstances, a woman naked from the waist up in his living room was still incredibly incriminating.

Then he recognized the red hair, and his hands shot over his eyes.

"CHRIST, Romanoff, why are you…don't you have…" Again, for the first time in a while, words fled in the face of pure bewilderment. Romanoff was not ashamed of her body, but she never, ever paraded it around the tower in anything other than pure threatening levels of deadliness.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before," she said tiredly.

He took the hand down from over his eyes, because her tone was also something he'd never heard from her except once, after an alien army from space had invaded Manhattan, and she had been so tired and hurt she couldn't stand up.

He looked at her back again, still feeling really uncomfortable (he was pretty sure he could see some side boob in there) but he tried to avoid it, just cause they were, kinda, sorta friends. But then he noticed the deep purple and red bruising covering her back, and could see the outlines of her shoulder blades and some of her ribs.

"Woah there, Leila Ali, who'd you lose a fight with?" he jogged to the refrigerator, grabbing multiple ice packs out of the freezer drawer. He tried to keep up a nonchalant appearance as he made his way back over to her. She hadn't moved from where she was sitting hunched over on the couch. He gently placed the ice packs onto what looked like the worst of the bruising, holding them there as she gasped in pain, flinching away.

"Lemme guess, I should see the other guy?" he teased lightly.

She let out a little huff of amusement.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He glanced around for Clint, wondering why the archer wasn't here. He was probably better at Widow-Treatment than anyone else.

"No," she breathed out a shuddering breath. "Just…sat down…couldn't really get up again," she whispered.

"You know you can tell Jarvis who will tell…someone…right?"

"_She did tell me, Sir, which is why I said there was a matter in the common area that required your urgent attention."_ The A.I.'s voice added helpfully.

Tony blinked. "That's right." He had forgotten in the initial shock of seeing Natasha topless.

Natasha took another deep breath, and if he wasn't mistaken, he thought he actually saw a slight blush creep into her cheeks.

Well.

Not that it was a romantic blush or anything like that, but Tony had just assumed he'd be the last person she'd call to help with anything, ever. Clint may not be here, but a few other people definitely were. Tony couldn't help the little bit of warmth bubbling up in his chest.

But first thing was first. "There's an ice bath in the gym, want me to show you where?" he asked. He was careful to make it sound like he wasn't offering her physical assistance. She clearly knew where the gym was.

Still, she nodded her head, then wrapped her hand around his bicep as they both stood up together. Her face contorted sharply in pain.

"I gotcha, I gotcha," he soothed, picking up the throw on the back of the couch and wrapping it around her shoulders, at least trying to preserve some of her dignity. Her grip was like a vice, and he was positive it would bruise later, but he didn't complain.

They took slow steps, and when they were almost there, Natasha finally picked her head up, taking in the baths. "Does Steve…know about these?" she asked, voice mischievous.

Tony barked out a laugh of genuine amusement. "Does Steve know you make jokes about him behind his back?"

"It's…so easy," she groaned. She sat on the side of the tub, letting go of Tony. As she struggled to take off her pants, Tony got a bucket from the cooler and began hauling ice cubes to the bath.

"Do you…uh, need help?" he asked tentatively. "Cause, you know, me 'n Pep are steady now, and she likes you, so I don't want her to hurt you, or me for this," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"That's a bad…sexist joke and you…know it," she panted.

"You got me," he said, leaning down and helping her pull her pants off the rest of the way. He offered his arm, which she took again, as she used it to lower herself into the ice-cold bath. She gasped sharply, and Tony winced in sympathy. "Jarvis, track her…whatever." He waved his hand vaguely.

"_I will monitor Miss Romanoff in a medical capacity at your…loquacious…request."_

"Sassy, isn't he?" Natasha closed her eyes and grinned.

"Yeah, well, you know us." He drummed his fingers nervously on the rim of the tub, watching her skin turn pale as she shivered slightly. "I'm just…gonna sit right here. Not in a creepy, predator way, but you know, in a teammate…sorta way."

"You can shut up and sit there," she mumbled. He did, remaining silent, studying the bruises that went over her shoulders and down her chest, where he could see more outlines of ribs. He winced in sympathy. He'd been tossed around in the suit enough to know _exactly_ how that felt. Maybe she had called him because as one of the only straight up humans on the team. He, Natasha and Clint all shared the propensity to play down their injuries, because they didn't want to be treated as delicate by the others. It wasn't a conscious thing, just something they all did.

Her voice startled him, quiet and relieved in the silence.

"Thanks."

He gripped her wrist. "Any time."


End file.
